Immaculate Deception
by Indigo Kitti
Summary: ONESHOT PostHBP Draco tries to live his life the way he'd like, but pesky Lucius keeps getting in the way. Now, with the help of a choice few Gryffindors, he attempts the nearimpossible in relationship staging. HD slash


Disclaimer: Not mine.

Warning(s): Slash

Author's Notes: A very happy (and late) birthday toMinerva Alistorwho, if pressed, is very handy with a whip, and is_ always_ a wonderful person to be around. (Some of you may remember her as the author of Different Worlds. In case you didn't get the memo, she's moved on to skyehawke under the name BADminerva.)

Also, a huge thank you toDaniella Flux for her excellent summary, coming up with the final title, and putting up with my 'reallyit'shumournotromanceohwait,itjust gotsappy!' story, and betaing it despite the Harry/Draco slash! (preens I'm the exception to her rule.)

Er... Yes, I'll start writing my actualy stories again soon, I promise.

xOx

Lucius Malfoy was a busy man. Not only did he have to deal with the Malfoy finances, their many investments, and estranged relatives claiming to be the true heirs to _his_ fortune, he had to deal with all the political tripe that came from being the newly elected Minister of Magic. To top it all off, his wife was on three dozen different uppers ranging from magical to muggle, and his son had yet to _do_ anything – besides host garden parties, and go out for nights on the town with his friends – three years after the war had finally ended.

He was frustrated.

"Draco!" Lucius roared, deciding that now, if ever, was the time to sit his son down, and have a serious discussion about the future of the Malfoy family.

"Yes, Dad?" Draco sauntered into Lucius' elegant Edwardian office, and sat on the edge of one of the imported Italian leather chairs that sat before his desk.

Draco hadn't used to call him 'Dad', Lucius remembered wistfully; Draco used to refer to him _properly_ – as 'father' or 'sir'. Getting that kind of respect out of the boy was _impossible_ now, a fact that Lucius blamed entirely on himself.

It was what came from being around Gryffindors. Early into the start of the second Voldemort war, Lucius had tired of being a loyal Death Eater in Azkaban, and sold all his secrets – a considerable amount of them too, the Dark Lord has trusted him explicitly – to McGonagall and Moody in exchange for asylum. During the war he'd forced Draco to befriend the Gryffindors, and, to his chagrin, the boy took quite a liking to them. When the war ended both he and Draco were recognized as playing significant roles in the defeat of Lord Voldemort, and it was too late to forbid Draco from seeing his Gryffindor friends. As a bonus, his war hero status had helped Lucius gain his current position as Minister.

"Draco," Lucius said, rubbing his temples absently. "I think it's time we had a talk about your responsibilities towards the family."

Draco sighed, and sat back in his chair. "Dad, you're not going to start in on me about continuing the grand Malfoy line, are you?"

"Draco, I'm not asking you to get a tattoo on your forearm. I'm asking you to get a woman pregnant and marry her. Why not one of those Gryffindors you're so fond of? Don't the Weasely's have a girl or two available for mating?" Lucius placated.

Draco had, unfortunately, learned quite a bit while Lucius had been busy trying _not_ to be captured, and had his own ideas about love and marriage. In particular, he thought the two had to go hand in hand.

"Dad," Draco said, far more serious then Lucius could ever recall seeing him. "Dad, I have something very serious to tell you, and you must take me on my word."

Lucius nodded curtly, hoping Draco wasn't about to admit that he had several half-blood children stashed all over Britain. It would certainly explain the almost constant flow of money out of Lucius' Gringotts account.

"Dad – I'm gay. I like boys. I _can't_ marry a girl, or have children with one!"

Lucius stared at his son, horrified.

"Dad?"

xOx

Standing outside Harry and Ron's flat in muggle Bristol, Draco held back tears and continued to push the buzzer, hoping someone was home.

"What the bloody Hell is going on down there!" an enraged voice yelled from the top floor of the four story brick building. "If that's you again, Stevens, you can bet your mum's going to hear about it!"

Draco fought the urge to fall to his knees, and backed up so Ron could see him. "It's me, you prat!" he cried, waving his hands above his head. "Let me in, already!"

If Harry was away or asleep, then it was no wonder Ron hadn't answered his rings: the redhead was still baffled by a lot of Muggle technology – including the speakerphone in his apartment.

Two minutes later, Ron appeared in the doorway, wrapped in a Muggle bathrobe Hermione had given him the previous Christmas. "Malfoy," he grumbled, gesturing for Draco to enter. "If this is one of your fits again, I swear I'll…" Seeing Draco's face for the first time he stopped. "Draco, are you alright?"

"Upstairs," Draco snapped, sailing past him, and into the elevator. "Let's go, Weasley."

"Alright, don't get your knickers in a twist!" Ron rubbed his eyes tiredly, and shuffled into the lift. "Harry's still at work, so if you're here to talk to him, you'll have to wait."

Draco sighed, and leaned back against the cool metal walls of the elevator as it traveled upwards. "I don't know why I'm here," he admitted. "It seemed like the place to go."

"Did one of your kept boys drop you?" Ron asked acerbically – Draco's habit for picking up Muggle pretty-boys, and keeping them locked in hotel rooms was something that grated on Ron's Gryffindor sensibilities, and mentioning it around Harry or Hermione was even worse.

"No, Weasel," Draco said with an unusual lack of bite. "It's not as if I would _care_ if they did, would I? It's just less money I have to explain away to Father." Draco winced, and, when the doors opened, stepped hurriedly into the softly lit hallway. "When do you think Harry will be back?"

Upon defeating Voldemort, Harry Potter had become a healer, and quite a talented one at that. It was widely rumored that he would be taking over for Madam Pomfrey when she retired – as wizards and witches lived longer than muggles the retirement age was usually around 120 years old, and Madam Pomfrey was still a spry young woman of 104 – but he was currently employed as an ER mediwizard in St. Mungo's, and often had to keep odd hours.

"Don't know," Ron replied, pushing through the partially-open door to the apartment he shared with Harry. "Should be sometime soon, he was supposed to be home around midnight, and it's one already. Hermione's coming over in the morning; will you be staying that long or are you heading home after you talk to Harry?"

Draco walked in behind Ron and collapsed on the old leather settee that took up much of the lounge. "I don't know, I… I _can't_ go home."

Ron frowned. "What? Did you get into another fight with your dad?"

Draco laughed bitterly. "That's one way of putting it, I suppose. Can I sleep here tonight? I'll explain in the morning when Harry and Hermione are here – I'm absolutely knackered."

"Right, well you can have the couch, then," Ron said. "You know where the blankets are, so help yourself – I'm going back to bed."

Draco waved a careless hand, not bothering to get up and grab a blanket from the hall cupboard.

Ron snorted. "I'll see you in the morning, you toff."

xOx

When Harry got home from an exhausting day in the St. Mungo's emergency ward, and made to collapse onto the couch he was surprised to find a body in his way.

"Malfoy?" Harry stooped over, and shook the other man. "Malfoy, what are you doing here?"

Draco mumbled sleepily, and made a half-hearted attempt at knocking Harry's hand off his shoulder.

"Draco, aren't you supposed to be at the manor this weekend?" Harry asked, crouching down so his face was level with Draco's. "Did you have another fight with your dad?"

"I'll explain later," Draco growled. "Bugger off: I'm trying to sleep!"

Harry smiled bemusedly as Draco rolled over, and burrowed into the leather of the couch. "When did you get here?"

"Go 'way."

"No, it's nearly six anyway so get up, you arse." Harry walked into the small kitchen, and put a kettle on the stove. "I'm making tea, Malfoy. Do you want a cup?"

"Sleep."

"A large cup, then. I had such a busy day at work, you wouldn't believe it. I had to do everything from applying Elastoplasts to pulling bike spokes out of some bloke's abdomen. Our most amusing victim of the day was a divvy who got his brace stuck in a pop can."

Draco sighed, and sat up. "I suppose that telling you that I've only gotten five hours of sleep today won't stop you from talking?"

Harry ducked into the living room and shot Draco a smirk before continuing to make breakfast. "If it's any comfort, I don't usually get much sleep either. Now get up! Hermione's going to be here any minute."

"Of course," Draco grumbled. "All you Gryffindors are _morning_ people."

Just as Harry was opening his mouth to reply, the front door swung open, and Hermione Granger walked into the flat, cheerfully humming. "Draco!" she exclaimed. "How marvellous to see you!"

"I would say it's mutual, Hermione, but at this hour in the morning _nothing_ is marvellous," Draco grumbled, accepting a hot mug of tea from Harry. "I slept on a _couch_ last night."

"Did you have another fight with your father?" she asked, pouring herself a cup of tea as well. "Where's Ron? Is he still asleep?"

"No," Ron said, shuffling into the room, still in his bathrobe. "I'm here. Spill, Malfoy."

"Fine," Draco snapped. "My father kicked me out of the house."

Harry, Ron and Hermione all exchanged worried glances. Lucius had never kicked Draco out of the house before; Draco was always the one who left in a huff.

"He says I can't come back until I find someone, and get married. Someone who can get _pregnant._" Draco shuddered. "There's no way in Hell I'm marrying some twat – even if it does mean having to work for a living."

"Did you tell him you're gay, Draco?" Hermione asked.

"Of course I did, that's what made him push the issue. I don't know what I'm going to do!" Draco sighed, and fell back against the worn couch cushions. "I'm too beautiful to be poor."

Ron snorted into his tea. "Stop being such a drama queen, Malfoy," he said. "Just find some bird who has already been knocked up, and marry _her_."

"Ron!" the other three occupants in the room shouted.

"I refuse to marry a female I don't like. In fact, I refuse to marry a female period, and that's the end of it. I'm doomed to spend my life toiling away in some magical sweat shop, wasting my youthful good looks away."

"Don't worry, Malfoy," Harry said wryly. "Someday your prince will come."

There was a moment of silence.

"I didn't mean it like _that_," Harry protested when both Ron, and Draco raised their eyebrows questioningly. "It's from a Muggle movie. Hermione got it."

Hermione snickered. "I did, Harry, but you have to admit…"

"Shush; we should be trying to solve Draco's problem, not discussing accidental innuendos."

"Yes, as amusing as Harry's slip up was, let's focus on the important issue here – me," Draco insisted petulantly. "How are we going to fix this?"

"Well," Hermione said. "All you need to do is get married," she held up a hand to stop Draco from interrupting. "Just sit silently for a _moment_, Draco. All you need to do is get married to someone your dad _detests_. He'll be so put out by your choice in life-partner that he'll let you get a divorce right away!"

"Hermione," Draco whigned. "He'll see right through that! If I show up married to a girl this early on he'll know something's up!"

"But that's it exactly, Draco," Hermione insisted, leaning forward conspiratorially. "You won't be married to a girl; you'll get married to a _boy._"

"Man, if you please, Granger. And have you forgotten? Men can't get pregnant!"

"Yes they can!" Hermione declared, to the horror of the three men around her. "There are potions and spells to allow a man to conceive, and carry, another man's child."

"That's gross," Ron said, summarizing the feelings of all three men.

"But true," Hermione pointed out. "So all Draco has to do is marry someone his father can't stand, who understands the plan, and is willing to pretend to be smitten with Draco."

Ron snorted. "Where are we going to find someone like that?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it?" Hermione asked excitedly. "Draco's got to marry Harry!"

There was a moment of silence.

"Hermione, that's brilliant!" Ron cried, jumping out of his seat.

"What?" Harry demanded. "How is that brilliant?"

Ron rolled his eyes. "Well, you're already _here_, aren't you? And everybody knows you haven't had a date since you broke up with Ginny, so you can pretend that you two were secretly in love with each other the whole time!"

"What! Draco, tell them they're crazy!" Harry exclaimed, turning to face the other man.

"Actually," Draco said, to Harry's horror. "It just might work. Let's do it."

xOx

Later that day, Harry sat on the floor of the newly reopened Hogwarts outside the Headmaster's office with Hermione, and was finally able to reveal his true feelings.

"Hermione," he said, almost conversationally. "I hate you."

Hermione rolled her eyes, and hit Harry lightly on the shoulder. "What's the big deal, anyway?" she asked. "You've had a crush on Draco for years."

"_Hermione_," Harry hissed. "That's exactly the problem! How am I supposed to get _married_ to the man I've been lusting after since adolescence, and then just go about my daily life as if nothing's changed?"

"Oh Harry," Hermione said, somewhat lamely. "I know how conflicted you must be feeling right now, but –" She was cut off by the arrival of Minerva McGonagall.

"Harry, Hermione, what are you doing here?" the new Headmistress asked. "Won't you come up for a spot of tea?"

Harry and Hermione followed McGonagall up to her office – after she had given the gargoyle a suitably candy related password, a small tribute to Dumbledore's memory – and sat down in the two conveniently-placed chairs before her desk.

"Headmistress," Hermione said. "I'm afraid I must be blunt. We need you to come to Harry and Ron's apartment to perform a wedding ceremony as soon as possible. Tonight would be good."

"Oh my," said McGonagall. "I always thought you'd end up with Ron Weasley, Hermione, and you with Ginny Weasley, Harry."

Harry and Hermione immediately began falling over themselves to deny McGonagall's assumptions.

"Oh no, Headmistress!" Hermione cried. "That's not it at _all!_"

"Me and _Hermione_?" Harry asked incredulously. "No way!"

"Oh," McGonagall said, once Hermione and Harry wound down. "Who's getting married then?"

"Harry and Draco," Hermione said primly, as if she _weren't_ outing her best friend to his former head of house. "And they really _do_ need to be married quickly."

"I see," McGonagall said, although both Harry and Hermione could see by the confusion in her eyes that the latest twist in Harry's life had caught her off guard. "And who else will be attending this auspicious occasion? The Minister, perhaps?"

"No," Harry sighed. "No, it's private ceremony – only Ron, Hermione and you."

"Alright," McGonagall agreed. "I'd be honored, Harry."

Harry tried hard to smile.

xOx

That evening, Harry and Draco stood before McGonagall while Ron and Hermione watched from the couch.

"You may kiss…each other," McGonagall finished uncertainly.

"Oh," Harry said. "Do we have to?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "It's just a kiss, Potter, it won't kill you."

Harry sighed, turned, and pulled Draco into a deep kiss. Ron winced and turned away.

"There," he said when the kiss came to its natural conclusion. "I've kissed the…other groom. Are we finished here?"

"Certainly," McGonagall said, slamming the book she'd been holding throughout the ceremony closed. "I don't suppose I can trouble you for a spot of tea?"

As Harry and Hermione drifted into the kitchen after McGonagall, Draco and Ron were left standing in the lounge.

"Draco?" Ron ventured cautiously after a moment of silence.

"Ron," Draco said. "I don't think I can do this."

"Why not?" Ron asked, although he was pretty sure he knew the answer. "Is Harry not a good kisser?"

"I… I _like_ Harry. In _that_ way," Draco explained sheepishly. "And I _know_ he's only doing this because we're friends, Ron, I really do. It's just… I'm _married_ to him now."

"Well," Ron said, hiding a grin behind his hand. "We have some Fire Whiskey stashed underneath the kitchen sink if you feel the need for some liquid courage."

Draco groaned, and buried his head in his hands.

xOx

The following day, Draco and Harry made their way to Malfoy Manor. Ron had wanted to come along and see the look on Lucius' face, but Draco had denied him the pleasure, stating that his presence would decrease the believability of Draco's story, and that no, Ron _couldn't_ use the Invisibility Cloak either.

When the two of them arrived in front of the doors to Lucius' study, Draco took a deep breath, and took Harry's hand in his.

"Let's make this believable, Potter," he said. "I apologize in advance for anything, and everything I am forced to do."

Harry hoped to any deities that saw fit to listen that the Malfoys didn't have some sort of strange after-marriage ritual no one had told him about, and followed Draco into his father's office.

"Dad?" Draco called as they walked into the cold room.

Lucius looked up from the paper strewn across his polished desk, and raised a single eyebrow. "Draco," he said coolly. "I thought I told you not to come back here without a wife."

"That's not exactly what you said father," Draco replied with a vicious smile. "You said not to come back unless I was married to someone who could bear my heirs."

The eyebrow remained raised.

"Dad, meet my new husband, and future father of your grandchildren, Harry Potter."

The expression on Lucius' face was everything Ron had hoped for, and Harry wasn't sure if he should laugh or cry.

xOx

Once Lucius had gotten over his shock, been shown the official marriage papers, and the adverts for male pregnancy potions, Harry and Draco were allowed to sit down. To Harry's surprise, Draco waited until he was seated, and then all but collapsed into his lap.

Lucius turned a very interesting shade of red.

"So," Lucius ground out from between clenched teeth. "You and Potter are…married."

Draco smirked, wrapping an arm around a violently blushing Harry. "Potter-Malfoy now, dad, Harry and I both decided that it was time to…come out of the closet about our relationship."

Harry was sure he remembered protesting.

"Sorry we didn't invite you to the wedding, but we wanted a more intimate ceremony. Just us, and a few friends, you know," Draco smiled winningly. "And Harry was such a _darling_ about the whole affair, really. He wanted to invite all the Weaselys, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks, but when I protested he allowed it to be smaller. Didn't you, _dear_?"

Harry nodded mutely and prayed he'd get out of this alive.

"And dad, do you think you could spot us a few thousand galleons to get us started in our new life? Harry's working as a mediwizard at St. Mungo's right now, but his salary isn't _nearly_ enough to keep _me_ fed and clothed."

Belatedly, Harry added financial stability to his list of hopes and dreams.

Lucius looked like he was about to snap out of his daze, when Narcissa Malfoy floated into the room, a glass of sherry firmly in hand.

"Darling!" she said, sitting down in the second chair, ignoring Draco and Harry completely. "Lucius, Draco's gotten married, did you hear? It's all over the Daily Prophet. And to Harry Potter, too!"

Lucius rubbed his temples tiredly. "I have heard, Narcissa. Draco and Potter came to inform me of the…joyous occasion."

Narcissa turned to face the two younger men and smiled. "How delightful! Would you two care to stay for dinner?"

Draco's smile took on a wicked edge, and Harry groaned.

"Why yes, Mother, that sounds positively delightful."

xOx

While being fed by Draco Malfoy held a certain appeal to Harry, who had admittedly had a crush on the other man for some time, he was unable to enjoy the experience fully because of the glares directed at him by Draco's father.

"Would you like a cup of tea, Harry dear?" Narcissa questioned warmly as she poured herself another glass of wine. Narcissa had warmed up to him considerably since he arrived, although Draco assured him that it was just the drugs and alcohol talking.

Harry swallowed yet another bite of the chocolate torte the Malfoys had served for dessert, and nodded. "Yes, thank you, Mrs. Malfoy."

"Oh please, Harry, call me 'Mother'."

Lucius and Draco simultaneously snorted tea out their noses, though it was for differing reasons.

xOx

Narcissa, Harry found, was actually quite an engaging conversationalist. At least, that's what he told himself to distract his body from Draco's hands, which were roaming all over it. He knew that Draco was only doing it because of Lucius' reaction, but that didn't stop certain parts of his anatomy from showing their interest.

"Well," Lucius said, standing abruptly. "It's getting late, don't you think? Draco, could I talk to you in the hall? Narcissa, why don't you show… _Harry_ the door?"

Narcissa smiled, and stood. "Harry, darling, follow me."

Harry and Narcissa left, leaving Draco and Lucius alone.

"Draco, son," Lucius began. "I know what you're doing."

"And what's that, Dad?" Draco asked, blinking his eyes in as innocent a fashion as was possible.

"And even though I know what you're up to, I have to say that I don't mind. It's a very Slytherin approach to life."

"What do you mean," Draco asked, honestly curious.

"What I mean," Lucius said. "Is that you married Harry Potter to raise your position in the world. It was very clever of you to think of it, Draco, but unnecessary."

"Dad, you're mistaken – I didn't marry Harry to raise my position," Draco protested.

"Don't interrupt me when I'm talking, Draco," Lucius snapped, raising a hand. "I know how you feel about marriage, and you always have had a bit of an obsession with Potter, but I must protest. I will allow you to have continued use of the Malfoy vaults, if you divorce Potter right away."

Draco smiled slyly. "But father, I thought you would only let me have access to the family vaults if I was married to someone who could produce an heir?"

"I've changed my mind, Draco," Lucius said with a sigh. "I can see that there's not getting around your…sexuality. Perhaps you will grow out of this perversion with time."

Draco flinched.

"For now, let us forget this ever happened and move on with our lives. You – and you alone – are welcome under my roof, Draco, as soon as you've gotten rid of Potter."

Draco felt… strange. This had been the plan all along, after all, to make his father retract his earlier threat. But, Draco had just spent an evening experiencing what it would be like to _really_ be with Harry Potter. He had held the other man's hand, sat on his lap, whispered in his ear, and had been able to make it clear to _everyone_ that Harry was Draco's. And now he wasn't sure he wanted to give that up.

"I – I'll think about it, Dad," Draco said. "It's getting late, we should go."

Lucius nodded. "I'll see you soon, son."

Draco wasn't so sure.

xOx

Sitting on the couch in Harry and Ron's sitting room for the fourth time in as many days, Draco's teeth dug into his lower lip, and he tried to convince himself to leave.

Draco had never let himself get tangled in emotions. He had had sex – lots of it – Hell; he had at _least_ three kept boys in top Muggle hotels at any given point in time. It was who he was, how people defined him. Draco Malfoy was a heartless bastard, but a considerate and consummate lover. Good for a fuck, but not much else. It was a carefully constructed image, built when he had finally been able to let himself go.

Other men might argue that the wedding announcement in the paper today was the end of that, and that he couldn't go back to indiscriminate fucking again without considerable work. Of course, those men probably wouldn't have considered that he'd married the straight – as far as anyone knew – hero of the wizarding world, and could probably say that the whole thing was a giant joke.

The problem was (Draco accepted a cup of tea from Harry with a small smile) the problem was, he wanted the ten inch ad reading 'Draco and Harry Potter-Malfoy would like to announce their marriage' to be true.

"Draco, what did your father say to you?" Harry asked, sitting cautiously on the coffee table in front of the couch. "Was he horrible? Did the plan not work?"

Draco thought about lying, thought about telling Harry that no, the plan _hadn't_ worked, and now they were stuck with each other forever, and possibly had to drink one of the horrible potions Hermione so conveniently kept the ads for. But, when Draco finally looked up, and met Harry's eyes, he found he couldn't lie. At least, not when Harry's eyes were big and green, and he looked so _worried_ that the plan had failed.

"No," Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "No, the plan worked – he has issued a new ultimatum. Either we get a divorce, or I never set foot in Malfoy Manor again."

"Oh, good," Harry said with the sort of forced cheerfulness one uses to congratulate Hagrid on his latest attempt at breeding Hippogriffs with his half-brother, or Fred and George after they're tried their latest prank on you. "Shall I call McGonagall to come and divorce us tonight, or do you want to wait until morning?"

Draco's heart sped wildly in his chest. "Tomorrow," he said. "Let's just…wait one more day."

Harry tilted his head back, and looked at the ceiling for a moment. "One more day," he repeated quietly. "Why not?"

Harry and Draco sat in silence for a moment, each soaking up the other's company. Eventually, Draco collapsed into the couch cushions, and said: "I'm about to do something extremely stupid."

Harry looked up from his tea cup. "What?"

"This." Draco leaned over, tilted Harry's head back, and kissed him. The kiss was slow, almost lazy, and Draco nipped at Harry's lower lip before pulling back.

"Oh," Harry said, eyes wide and pupils dilated. "_Oh._"

"Look," Draco said. "I know you don't like me in _that_ way, but…I do. Like you I mean."

Harry stared at him, shocked, and Draco began to feel very uncomfortable.

"Sorry," Draco said, standing up and walking towards the door. "I shouldn't have done that. I'll…see you around. We can go get a divorce tomorrow."

"W – wait!" Harry cried, pushing off the table, and rushing after Draco. "Draco!"

Draco turned; keeping his eyes focused on a spot above Harry's left shoulder. "Look, Potter, I know you feel like you owe me something or some ridiculous thing like that, but you really don't. If anything, I owe you."

"No," Harry said with a small smile, taking Draco's hand in his. "That's not it, Draco – this is." And Harry kissed Draco back.

"Oh," Draco said, and somehow he was much closer to Harry, and his arms were around the other man. "Really?"

Harry adjusted his own arms so that they were more secure around Draco. "Yes," he said. "For a while now, actually."

Draco smirked. "How long is 'a while', Potter?"

Harry leaned in to kiss him again. "A while is a long time…maybe…since just before we became friends?"

Draco's eyes widened. "You've liked me _all this time?_"

Harry nodded, and happily pulled Draco closer.

"You..." Draco paused to kiss Harry again. "I don't know whether to call that romantic or pathetic."

"Well," Harry said, pushing away from Draco and smiling. "You married me."

Draco's face erupted into a smile. "I guess I did. Does this mean we're not calling McGonagall?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't think so – we've got a honeymoon to go on, don't we?"

Draco's smile took on a feral edge. "Oh," he said. "We most certainly do, and I happen to know _the_ best hotels in all of London."

Harry frowned slightly. "Yes, well, you're going to have to find a new hobby. No more kept boys."

"No more kept boys," Draco repeated solemnly. "That's alright, I don't have the money for them anymore."

"What?" Harry asked, "Why not?"

"Well obviously I can't go back home now, I'm still married to you," Draco explained carelessly. "I'll just be your kept husband from now on. It's not like I want to work for a living anyway."

"Well, if you're sure…"

"Oh I am; dad's money, or unlimited access to the body and vaults of the wizarding world's Golden Boy? Please, like there's any real choice involved."

Harry smiled. "You're so shallow."

"But you love me for it, don't you?" Draco asked mischievously.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "I really do."

_fin_


End file.
